Silhouettes
by Watermalone
Summary: "Who are you, beyond those quiet eyes, your rugged exterior and that calm demeanor? Memories and experiences. Nothing more and nothing less. It's true, we all have our own stories, our own chapters, but tell me, is that library worth traversing?" Introducing a brand new type of AU where Star and Marco are runaways! Both characters are 18, rated T for violence and swearing.
1. Prologue

**So I downloaded a full mp3 version of the "Blood Moon Waltz", and I CAN'T STOP LISTENING TO IT OH GOD IT'S TOO GOOD IT MAKES ME CRY. *Ahem* Please excuse my trash self.**

 **Heya folks, it's Watermalone here with another new story for your reading delight!**

 **With regards to this story, there are a few details I must share before we begin. First, this story was created for EVAunit42's awesome series finale of** _ **If I say I miss you will you come back.**_ **However, when he requested I wrote a scene for him, I accidently misinterpreted it as an entire one shot. So basically the story you guys probably read was only about 85% of the original. Second, I have actually decided to expand on the one shot itself... I can't tell you what the next chapters will be about, but after what happens here, I think you can guess. Lastly, this story is a bit... darker than my usual writing, hence the T rating and so be forewarned, language and violence galore.**

 **And now, for the everyday SVTFOE fan, like yourself, I highly recommend you check out the works of other authors such as EVAunit42 who has got another chapter up in his thriller/mystery series _Starco Academy_** **, Irritus138 who has got several new one shots in** _ **Of Magical Wands and Safety Helmets,**_ **a Starcodorable story by eggoraptor called _Endlessly,_** **and last but not least, a very well written tragic one shot by One-Crazed-Up-Dragon called** _ **Worth it.**_

 **And thus, we begin anew, another plot, another story. New characters, old enemies. This chapter will be the original scene used in EVAunit42's story** _ **If I say I miss you**_ **and so if there isn't many changes, well, it's because it's the original duh.**

 **And without further ado, chapter one of** _ **Silhouettes.**_ **Relax, read, rate and review at your own ris- I mean... leisure.**

 **SVTFOE isn't owned by anyone! Be free cartoon, BE FREE! *Cough* Yeah I don't own SVTFOE or anything related to it... *Cough***

* * *

 _Never be fooled by a summer's evening. While the skies may reign clarity like a stellar cesspool, the cold atmosphere will 'most always steal your breath. The darkness consumes, the shadows follow._

* * *

 **Silhouettes**

Muffled clicking could be heard echoing around the empty streets of the Echo Valley metropolis. The normally busy and bustling life of the downtown avenue now lay to rest by the heat of a summer's day.

Star was alone. All she brought were the clothes on her back, a couple of keepsakes, and a few belongings, neatly tucked away in her spiked turtle shell schoolbag.

Perhaps she didn't think this through too well. Shrugging to herself, she trudged onwards.

 _"No turning back."_ She muttered to herself. _"I can do this."_ A spike of raw guilt struck her.

What exactly _was_ she doing? There must have been an easier way. There must...

Shaking herself out of this trance, she forced herself to keep moving.

One... Two... Three... Fourteen.. Twenty seven...

She was at least thirty blocks away by now. Definitely out of range.

Sighing, she set down her bag next to the base of a tall skyscraper. It must've been midnight by now, and she was exhausted. Beneath the light of a streetlamp, she examined her bag's content once more. Wallet, check. Extra change of clothes, check. Unicorn head stuffed plushie, check. Phone...

She gave one good look her cell, and threw it to the ground, stamping an angry heel through the fragile glass screen.

Phone, check. No one was going to find her now.

Inhaling deeply, she sat down next to her belongings. She probably needed a better place to rest than this, perhaps under a bridge or something of the sort.

All of a sudden a figure stepped into the light. "Excuse me... Miss?" She jolted at the sound of the voice, clutching tightly onto her belongings.

With clear difficulty in masking her fear, she responded. "W-what do you want?"

"I'm lost and was wondering if you had a phone I could-"

Star bolted as fast as she could. Was he following her? How did he know she was there? Who sent him? There was no time for answers. As fast as her legs could carry her, she sprinted far and wide. It didn't matter who that person was, she needed to get away from them.

 _No one could be trusted._

Then her eyes saw it. Just ahead was the train tracks used mainly to transport cargo between Echo Creek (a small neighbouring town known for its farmfolk), and Echo Valley. And right below the tracks was the highway for the main road that ran beneath. Perfect shelter for the night!

Thunder rolled in the distance. Good timing too, she noted.

Her sprint slowed to a jog, jog to a walk. Finally, she reached the underbelly of the bridge.

"Home sweet home, I guess." She murmured quietly to herself.

There was no way she could fall asleep this night. The slanted concrete slab near the internal edge of the bridge was cold and a bit too hard on her back. In retrospect, it probably would've been smart to bring a sleeping bag...

She sat down on the freezing sidewalk. Rain began to patter the streets, drenching the roads outside.

At least she was safe from the rain.

"Hey check it out! Who's the blondie?" Star whirled around. There, beneath the shadow of the bridge, stood two figures.

"Dunno Luther." The taller figure with the lower voice turned to face Star. "Hey there girlie, what's a fine piece of ass like you doin' out this late?"

Star shivered in disgust at his remark.

"Maybe she's got a present for us Tommy." She could see the faint outline of a toothy grin etch the facial region of the first silhouette.

Lightning flashed across the sky, providing her a brief glimpse of both of the men's faces.

The taller, more scraggly looking one, had wily straggly hair that grew in a cloud shape. He wore a scrappy brown overcoat with tears and patches strewn across the surface of the fabric. The second one had a lot more of a greasy look. He was shorter, stubbier and had hair that looked like it had been dipped in a deep frier. His evil grin was missing a few front teeth, and his face was dirty and menacing.

Her study didn't last long as she bent down, tightly gripping the strap of her backpack, and spun on her heel, ready to face the rain. Her legs felt weak and heavy running again, but she knew she couldn't stay. She almost made it out before-

 _*click*_

Star froze, her blood running cold. She may have been new to this whole "street life" thing, but this was one sound she understood all too well.

"Sorry blondie, that wasn't an invitation." The raspy voice spoke with such malice it made her shudder in fear. "Now you're gonna hand over all you got, and then leave while your blood ain't spilling down with the rain."

She gulped, what a way for this to end. First night, and she's found dead. Imagine the laughs the folks at home would have. Their twisted, haunting images reflected in her mind.

 _So incompetent._

 _You should have listened._

 _I knew she couldn't do it, didn't I tell you?_

 _That's one mess of hers we don't have to clean up._

 _Good riddance._

 _We told you so._

She shut her eyes, a single tear escaping from her eyes. They were right, she wasn't ready for this.

Footsteps shuffled closer. Here it comes, the end.

Her attention drew from fear to surprise when a yelp of shock came from behind.

"Tommy! Shit!"

Star turned around to see the shorter man, facing his partner, gun still raised.

Beneath the pale lighting, she couldn't quite discern exactly what was going on. Behind the taller man, however, she could tell there was another figure.

"Let the girl go or your buddy here gets a one way ticket to hell!"

This voice sounded... different. It was ironically calm and soothing to hear, he certainly sounded a lot younger than the other two.

"Damnit Luther, just do what he says!" The thug known as 'Tommy' cried out in fear.

What was going on? Was this other guy... helping her? Saving her? Why?

"Grrr... Fine, fine!" Luther motioned for Star to move towards the other two. She complied without another word.

"Now let my buddy go!" Up close, she could see exactly what had happened. Barely glinting in the darkness was a flash of silver, pressed against the throat of Tommy.

Reluctantly, the taller figure was shoved towards his accomplice.

Star studied the shaded image of her savior. He couldn't have possibly have been much older than him! His face looked hardened, his features chiseled, his soft brown hair in a bit of a tangled mess, and his eyes were a deep brown. The boy, yes he might as well still have been one, wore a bright red hoodie.

"Hey! Snap out of it!" His voice shaking her back to her senses. "Let's go." Stern and commanding, yet with a caring undertone. Quite the perplexing character.

Star blinked twice. She wasn't sure whether to thank him or slap him. Sure he saved her, but what did he want from her?

"Didn't you hear me? Or would you rather prefer to fuck around with tweedle dum and dumber over here?"

If it weren't for the fact he could still be considered hostile, and he was holding a knife, she would've slapped him.

He sighed. "Sorry, didn't mean to yell. C'mon I know a good hideout." While under normal circumstances she would've just ran, there was a certain softness in his tone that made her more willingly compliant.

He began walking, Star hesitantly following along, the rain lightly drizzling their skin.

"Um, I'm Marco by the way, nice to meet you." He extended a hand in offering.

Star looked at his rough calloused hands with concern. Taking his finger between her index and thumb, she shook it. Marco stared at her with utmost confusion.

"First night out?"

She nodded.

"Sheltered life?"

Another nod.

"Not gonna say anything? Not even a name?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped herself. She nodded instead.

"Right. Well.. whatever." She felt bad not telling him anything, but it was miraculous that she trusted him enough to follow him to an unknown location.

"At the very least I should let you know, this isn't the best neighborhood to start your... Vendetta from... It can get a bit shady and threatening if you aren't careful. Personally, I'm a bit of a veteran at this sort of thing but you..." He scanned her up and down. "You might wanna stick to playgrounds and school zones."

"I'M EIGHTEEN I CAN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF!" She covered her mouth as abruptly as she blurted out the words.

"Woah... I guess I struck a nerve there..."

"Ughhh.. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap there..."

Marco's eyes lit up brilliantly upon hearing her voice for the first time. "It's okay, we all got something biting our rears."

"Oh yeah? What's on yours?" He couldn't have been much older than her. In fact he actually looked a bit younger! What could possibly be worrying him?

"Mmm personal stuff." He mumbled.

"Like what?"

"PERSONAL STUFF ALRIGHT?" Those once soft eyes became glaringly scary, inducing her mind into a panic stricken state.

He noticed the fear in her expression and instantly corrected himself. "No augh... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get mad. It's just... I don't wanna talk about my life... Okay?"

He spoke with tenderness in his voice. If it was false, then he was really good at masking it. There was something he was hiding, but it very well could've been pain.

"Um... It's okay. I didn't mean to strike a nerve there... heh." She looked up at him. His eyes reverted back to the caring ones that she endeared much more than the cold ones.

Marco smiled. "It's cool." They walked a few blocks in silence.

"So... Eighteen huh? What happened?"

His brusque question was a bit unspoken for, but his intention seemed kindly enough, even after his previous outburst. Maybe, just maybe she could trust him.

"Parents." She huffed.

"Let me guess. Overbearing mother, overprotective father, too many expectations, too little time, doesn't wanna grow up, doesn't feel accepted, can't keep up the grades, didn't want to disappoint, wanted to be free, needed to be independent." Star's jaw dropped. "Am I somewhere in the ballpark here?"

She was speechless. "How... How did- WHAT?" Who did this jerk think he was?

"I'll take that as a yes. And believe me, it's not too difficult to tell. You don't seem spoiled enough to be ungrateful, and you don't dress rebellious enough to be a runaway. You're just a bit misguided and afraid, by the looks of it."

That was the last straw. Her hand whipped across his cheek before she could stop herself.

"OW! What was that for?" His pain brought her a bit of satisfaction. "That was a compliment!" Really?

"Sorry sorry! I-I... That just-"

"It's fine. I know I'm a loudmouth. I didn't mean to intrude..." He was right. That was pretty intrusive on its own.

"But if it helps any, you should know that your parents probably really care about you... Take it from me, you don't know how lucky you are... to have parents..." His voice quieted eerily.

"Um..." Star wanted to change the subject. "So how far are we from your... place...?" Considering he was probably homeless, that sounded relatively awkward.

"My 'hideout' is just in this alley." He gestured to his left. A little less of an alleyway, it was rather just a corner. Its only contents were a dumpster, a few pieces of garbage laying around, and a large brick wall that towered above them.

"Is it..." She gulped. "The dumpster?"

"Heck no! You think royalty like me sleeps in a dumpster?" Sarcastic _and_ intrusive. Could he be more charming? She rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"Okay, then what are we looking at?" In reply to her question, Marco reached for a small handle below the two and yanked upwards, a small wooden hatch revealing a deep, dimly lit chamber. A thin ladder leading down towards what looked like a space heater, an old worn mattress and a small lamp powered by a series of extension cords everywhere.

" _Mi casa es su casa!_ " His words made her smile internally. Marco just always seemed to make her feel... happy.

Suddenly, his pupils dilated. His eyes widened in shock and horror. All she could hear was ringing, but her screams echoed into the night long before she could register what had happened.

Marco's hand reached for his chest, the deep red dye camouflaged well with his hoodie but even in the night, one could tell that the red liquid was saturating the fabric, staining it.

He fell to his knees, and collapsed on the cold wet ground.

Much to Star's terror, she recognized the two faces in the pale light of the moon, the smell of gunpowder emanating from the smoking barrel of the pistol she remembered even better.

"That'll teach you and your little bitch to mess with us, punk!"

"Let's get out of here Luther before the cops show up."

Star was delirious. Her mind flashed red and pink. She needed to save Marco! But those two must see justice for what they did! The wounds must be closed. HE'S JUST A BOY. Call 911. KILL THE TWO BASTARDS! DO SOMETHING!

She dropped down next to him, sobbing uncontrollably. What could she do?! Rolling his body over she checked for a pulse. Yes! He was holding on! Now if only she had... her... phone...

"No, no no NO NO NO!" She shouted in agony. "Please, please don't die on me!"

Marco coughed, blood splurting from his mouth. "S-shit. Th-they got me... Damn them..."

"I'm sorry Marco! I-I'll get you he-help!" She frantically searched for a payphone, a passerby, anything at all.

"No... I'll- URGH- I'll be fine... Just promise me... Promise me..."

"Star." She spoke flatly, trying to hold back the tidal wave of feelings she had thrashing about her mind. "M-my name.. Is Star Butterfly."

Marco smiled, not without difficulty. "S-star... that's... a beautiful name..." He inhaled sharply. He was clearly losing the battle of mortality. "Promise me... Star.. that you'll go back.. back to your family..."

"Wh-wha..?" His hand reached up to caress her cheek. Instinctively, she nuzzled against it. The only person in this entire world that seemed to care about her was being taken away from her as quickly as they had met. While it was true that she had never seen him before she couldn't help but feel safe with him. Like they had been close... once upon a time...

"An amazing girl... like you... doesn't deserve... this..." He was fading fast.

Sirens wailed from behind her, and not a moment too soon. Some medical attention, a couple patch-ups and he would be good as new! Right? RIGHT?

"Star... Star listen... leave... me... go home..." His whispers became raspy and forced.

"NO! Marco I can't leave you! A-and you can't leave me! Please! You understand me... I... I..." She choked back strained tears.

 _"I need you."_

A tiny grin curved his lips. "Go... go home... run... leave..." His eyes closed. His last breath escaped into the air, a small wisp, floating aimlessly, carrying the last cracked piece of his soul to the heavens. His hand fell limp in Star's lap.

The sirens drew near. Police, they were after the assailants.

He.. he couldn't be gone right? There was no way... he didn't... Any second now... he would spring back up, laughing with that adorably flashy grin telling her off about how she was gullible and... trusting... and...

* * *

 **And... Cliffhanger.**

 **Hopefully this chapter wasn't too much for you, a lot of... stuff... went into the making of this... Yes, stuff. But, in true Watermalone fashion, I have already completed the next chapter, ready to be released next week. I will apologize in advance, however, the transition is a bit awkward.**

 **As a final note, I would like to express a huge thank you to EVAunit42, he is an amazing guy, giving me inspiration to write this story in the first place. If you haven't see his work already, which I doubt, then I encourage you to check it out. Now. Or else. Just kidding!**

 **And as always, comments and reviews are deeply appreciated, and I hope to see you all next week for chapter two of** _ **Silhouettes.**_


	2. Backstory

**Halloween and horror? No thanks, I'll go for the depression that entrails eating two thousand tonnes of leftover candy!**

 **Heya folks it's Watermalone here with chapter two of Silhouettes!**

 **I realized my intros have been getting a bit long and drawn out so I'll try to speed things along for the future.**

 **Without further ado, here is chapter two, I warn you, there will be some... less than settling topics in here, rated T of course.**

 **So apparently the people at Disney aren't even allowed to read fanfictions, so what's the point of me even mentioning that I don't own SVTFOE?**

* * *

 _A tiny grin curved his lips. "Go... go home... run... leave..." His eyes closed. His last breath escaped into the air, a small wisp, floating aimlessly, carrying the last cracked piece of his soul to the heavens. His hand fell limp in Star's lap._

 _The sirens drew near. Police, they were after the assailants._

 _He.. he couldn't be gone right? There was no way... he didn't... Any second now... he would spring back up, laughing with that adorably flashy grin telling her off about how she was gullible and... trusting... and…_

* * *

No. He was gone. The cruelty of life... had taken him.

And his last words...

Star slowly released his head, letting him down on the ground gently. Wiping her eyes, she stood up, still facing his lifeless body.

"I promise, Marco."

She sprinted off, away from the cries of police cars breaking through the night.

* * *

Marco felt cold. His arms and legs had been numbed long ago. The only warmth he felt was his blood, slowly draining from his body, mixing in with the fresh rain water that surrounded his soon-to-be corpse.

An old dampened newspaper fluttered in the cool night breeze. Its headline flashed before him, etching itself a lasting memory into his mind.

 _Wanted: Marco Diaz for the murder of Raphael and Angie Diaz_

"You don't deserve this..."

His thoughts dissipated into his surroundings before everything faded to black.

* * *

 _(2 Years Ago)_

* * *

 _*BANG*_

 _16-year old Marco jolted awake. His heart hammered inside his chest, threatening to bust its way out of its cage._

 _He looked around the dark room. No signs of immediate danger... Groaning, he flopped back down onto his pillow, staring into the dark abyss._

 _His eyes eventually wandered over to the bright LED screen of his cell phone, flashing the time, currently 2:17AM as well as... A message?_

 _Curious, he stared at the bright text on the screen._

 _"Downstairs, now." -Mom_

 _"Aw fuck." He reluctantly rose from the soft comfort of his bedspread and made his way out to the main hallway._

 _"What do you want mom?" He groggily rubbed his eyes as he strode down the spiral staircase to the grand living room._

 _"Marco Ubaldo Diaz! How many times have we told you to put away your skateboard?!"_

 _Marco stared at the utter destruction before him. His father, Raphael Diaz, sat on the couch, rubbing the back of his head in pain. His skateboard was lodged beneath the dining room table at the far side of the house, and the coffee table was smashed in half, wooden splinters scattered everywhere. His mother stood before the base of the staircase, arms crossed._

 _They did not look happy._

 _"Whoa..."_

 _"Yes, 'whoa' indeed." His mother mocked his tone. "After all of this, all you can say for yourself is 'whoa'?"_

 _"Hey look if dad wasn-"_

 _"Don't talk back to your mother." Cold and stern, Marco's heart immediately plummeted. He clenched his jaw and fists, cheeks heating red at the angry retort._

 _"Marco," His mother began, noticing the rage building in their son. "We're not trying to get mad here, but this is completely irresponsible behavior and-"_

 _"AND WHAT?" His voice rose to levels beyond loud, his parents cringed at his outburst._

 _His father continued, "and someone got hurt, me." He pointed at himself. "We need you to grow up, son, and small things like these just-"_

 _"Just make me look like a disappointment." Marco finished flatly. "Is that all I am to you guys? A DISAPPOINTMENT?"_

 _"Marco!" Realizing their expressions, he felt like he had been shot in the gut._

 _"...Whatever. I'm going... I'm going back to bed!"_

 _"Son!" His mother began to give chase, but was stopped by his father's hand on her shoulder. He shook his head._

 _"Let him be, Angie, he's a good boy, he just needs space." His mother's expression softened to concern._

 _Marco slammed his room door shut and dove beneath the bed covers. This had been the third time he had gotten himself yelled at this week. It was all just so suffocating! They didn't understand him! He was a kid, and they were putting so much pressure on him to 'grow up' and be 'proper'. It wasn't fair! He didn't mean to leave his skateboard there, it was an accident..._

 _He sighed. Maybe he should have apologized. They meant well, of course, but it just seems whenever he said that he was sorry, they found another reason to be furious. A never ending cycle of repentance and anger..._

 _Grabbing his pillow, he screamed into it, all the frustration pent up inside his mind spilt onto its soft, feathery surface._

 _One day, he vowed, I'll leave this place and never come back…_

* * *

 _(Meanwhile downstairs)_

* * *

 _Angie Diaz stared at her steaming mug of freshly steeped tea. The wisps of heat slowly rose into the air, only to evaporate seconds later, their watery essence never to be seen again._

 _"Dear?" Raphael deterred his vision from a cup of coffee._

 _"Yes?"_

 _She took a deep breath. "Are we doing the right thing?"_

 _"You mean with Marco?" Her look of worry answered the question immediately._

 _"I feel... I feel like we've been a bit harsh on him lately..."_

 _Raphael remained silent._

 _"Is... is this our fault?"_

 _His ears perked up. "Angie, darling, of course it's not. But he's a growing boy and he sometimes just needs to figure things out in his own."_

 _Her expression was unchanging. He scooted over closer to her and wrapped an arm lovingly around her shoulders, allowing her head to rest on his shoulder._

 _"He'll be fine, like I said, he's got a good heart." Gently, he kissed her forehead, earning him the smallest smile from her. "Now let's go to bed, we have the group rally tomorrow."_

 _The twin mugs stayed untouched as the lights flicked off, diminishing the last bit of warmth emanating from them._

* * *

 _(The following night)_

* * *

 _Marco tossed and turned about. His feverish attempts at falling asleep were massively outperformed by the deep guilt that was buried within the frenzy of emotions that clouded his judgment._

 _He didn't apologize to his parents that night._

 _He grumbled to himself out of frustration. Once again, Marco was left home alone, as his parents were attending one of their regular "activist meetings". Something to do with citizens against local corruption in metropolitan court, politics, and economy._

 _While the topic piqued his interest, he wouldn't be caught dead attending a large meeting packed to the brim with adults, especially his parents. At the moment, he couldn't stand seeing them one more time._

 _The guilt slowly seeped its way through the hardened cracks in his heart. No... he loved his parents._ _ **But they don't seem to care.**_ _Of course they do, they just want what's best for him._ _ **He doesn't want their best he wants his!**_ _They're his parents._ _ **They're a nuisance.**_

 _The internal struggle slowly died in his mind, diminishing along with his last wills to find resolve to this conflict._

* * *

 _*BANG!*_

 _Marco shot upwards from slumber to what sounded like a bowling ball landing on hardwood. Loud, sudden, and brutal._

 _His vision, still obscured by the sudden transition, scanned his surrounding scenery. Pitch black, of course._

 _But no danger._

 _He laid back down to rest, however, not without a sense that something was... missing..._

 _He glanced at the direction of his nightstand, dark as every other part of the room. No bright and shining LED screen of his cell phone._

 _"Huh."_

 _Though odd, Marco remained unphased. His mother must've clumsily dropped a frying pan on the kitchen floor or something of the sort._

 _*BANG*_

 _Again? This one sounded unnatural. Sinister. Like the breaking of something... fragile._

 _Perhaps his father slipped on the skateboard again? His eyes darted towards the location of his phone again. Still nothing... strange... were his parents not... mad?_

 _No. Something was wrong. Silently, Marco slipped out from underneath his bed covers and made his way out towards the main hallway._

 _His skateboard sat neatly, leaning against the wall behind his doorframe._

 _Down the spiral staircase he went, quiet as a mouse, senses heightened at the rush of adrenaline that pumped through his veins._

 _Whispers. Indiscernible from a distance, but he could tell they were not of familiar origin._

 _Marco crept closer to the location of the voices, the murmurs eventually forming proper words._

 _"... ... -opes and tape... ..._ _ **we need to get out of here**_ _."_

 _Ropes and tape? What for? What was going on?_

 _Moonlight shone through the balcony window, providing Marco with silhouettes of two figures._

 _"What do we do about the gun?" The taller figure lifted his arm to reveal the shape of a small pistol dangling between his fingertips._

 _"Here pass it to me." Random clicks and jingles were heard before the shorter figure returned the firearm back to the first speaker._

 _A gun? Gun... bad... something... happened... parents. Okay? No..._

 _He clenched his fists. They were sweating profusely. His skin grew clammy, his breath shortened to a pant, and his legs grew numb._

 _But he hadn't been noticed yet._

 _The first figure bent down and began working on something on the floor._

 _This was his chance! With all the might and courage he could muster, he charged forward at full sprint, colliding with he unsuspecting figure in front of him._

 _"AHHH!" Marco landed on top of the larger man and wrenched the pistol out of his hands, graciously rolling back off and directing the firearm at the two shadows._

 _"Don't move!" He commanded. "O-or I'll shoot!" Maybe not so courageously._

 _"Shit, I didn't know there was a kid in the house!" The taller one whispered to the other one._

 _"He doesn't know who we are! Let's just bolt!"_

 _"HEY I WAS TALKING!"_

 _"GO GO GO!" And just like that, the two made a run for the balcony, paying no heed to the boy holding their weapon._

 _Without a second thought, Marco pulled the trigger._

 _But nothing happened. Furiously, he cracked the lever several times over. Did they take out the bullets? It didn't matter. They were gone, whoever_ _ **they**_ _were._

 _He searched the kitchen for a light switch and flicked it on, immediately regretting that decision._

 _It was too late. After everything that had happened, his last words to his parents were of malice and anger, not of love and apology. What a fool, he had been, holding grudges for the pettiest of issues, taking thWhoeir kindness for granted._

 _Marco dropped to his knees, drenching his pajamas in a thick coat of blood that pooled across the kitchen tile, sobbing into the lifeless corpses that were his parents._

* * *

 _"One day... Who would've guessed it would come so soon. Heh. I guess it's true what they say, be careful what you wish for."_

* * *

 _Seeing the interior of his room seemed... surreal. He hadn't been back here in... almost a week now._

 _Marco stuffed a few belongings into a rugged suitcase he managed to dig out of the basement. Luckily, the police hadn't confiscated a lot of the original home property. Rather, nothing that wasn't spattered in blood._

 _Wallet, check. Toothbrush, check, extra change of clothes, check. Oh! Sleeping bag, that's a good idea. Phone..._

 _There it sat, still, on his old bedside table, its screen dark and blank, just as it had been a week ago..._

 _Blinking away the tears that began to well up in his eyes, Marco made his way out of the bedroom, into the main hallway. His phone remained, dead, quiet, and untouched, on the old nightstand._

 _Phone, check._

 _No one was going to find him now._

* * *

 **Okay so a few things I'm going to cover here, ignore if you like.**

 **So this story has technically reached an end. I know, lots of questions left unanswered, and so in my spare time I drafted up a 'chapter 3' to this story. Reason for air quotes is that I actually don't know if I should release it or not. The thing is, it doesn't really center around the main characters, rather puts the reader into the perspective of a certain OC that I have created for the purpose of this story, hence it might be a bit of a long shot from this fandom.**

 **If you guys could let me know what you think that'd be awesome, I could leave it off here and keep it a tragic story, or I could release part 3 and change the genre to more of a... Mystery type. I won't say more than that, but if this is the last time I update this story, then I will hope to see you guys next time for when I finally begin my much anticipated project,** _ **Ripples.**_

 **And as always, reviews and comments are deeply appreciated, and I hope to see you guys in my next installment, whatever that may be.**

 **Oh and of course, special thanks going out to EVAunit42, this story is still technically titled under his name haha but he played a huge role in the development process nonetheless. And huge thank you to everyone who read and reviewed, sorry for no review responses for today, like I said, I've been trying to keep the intros short.**


	3. UPDATE

**Heya folks Watermalone here!**

So getting right down to it, Ii have decided to put this story on temporary hold. Don't get me wrong, this has nothing to do with personal issues this time haha! Actually what is the case is that due to 'unforseen circumstances' (aka exams, school, life, etc.), I've had little to no time to write the past weeks and, while this isn't usually a matter of much concern, it actually has caused some delay in my anticipated release of my new project. Because of this setback, I have came to the conclusion that in order for that story to be released as I initially planned, I would have to devote my full and undivided attention to the writing of that story and that story alone. Shocker, maybe, but nonetheless this story will NOT be discontinued, only on a temporary break for about... maybe a month or two.

Details regarding this story, I actually did finish most of chapter three, however, it is the OC chapter that I previously discussed in the author notes at the end of chapter two.

Details regarding my upcoming project, I have finished approximately two chapters by this point, and with a week's break in school due this Wednesday, I'll probably be coming to a finish in terms of my writing goals. So expect this project to drop approximately... November 27th. With that being said, for the first five weeks post-release, I will be doing what I call ' _First Five FanFiction Fridays'_ where I will be making an update every single Friday for the first five weeks after and including the first chapter.

And lastly, I apologize if this story was something you happened to be looking forward to, I didn't intend to allow this story to get set aside, honestly writing it in general was a bit of a fluke given it was a split second decision. Either way, I guess this gets piled on top of my 'hiatus regime'. *Sigh*

 **And as always, I thank you all for being patient with me, I can imagine that I'm a relatively frustrating person to listen to (heck look at my above spiel), but I promise to be back soon, proper updates ensuing. Oh, and I hope to see you all November 27th (I'm marking my calender), for the first glimpse of a brand new project I, and another certain individual, proudly call '** ** _Ripples'._** **Watermalone out!**


	4. Chapter 1

**2016… the year I'll have the easiest time writing a 6 over the 5 every time I write 2015 by accident.**

 **Heya folks it's Watermalone here with a brand new chapter of** _ **Silhouettes**_ **!**

 **As previously mentioned, this will** _ **slightly**_ **different from what is expected of this series, as you may know I plan on introducing a certain character I believe to be most fitting for the atmosphere of this story.**

 **And without further ado, I present the start of a brand new tale. A murder, a suspect, and a dark conspiracy awaits us in the cold underbelly of Echo Valley…**

 **New Year's Resolution: TAKE OVER DISNEY AND OWN SVTFOE SO I CAN MAKE STARCO CANON MUAHAHAHAHA! Wait… did I say that out loud?**

* * *

 _Innocence._ The first word that came to mind when she walked in.

Late in the afternoon, I had just finished up all the paperwork for the day. Well, if you count stamping a bunch of giant red _"REJECTED"_ signs on every single goddamn sheet.

Shit, I need a drink.

Right before I stood up to leave, this… _dame_ waltzes in like it's no one's business. For Pete's sake, it's my business. 8 hours spent in this rat's nest of an office and I'll be damned if I spend another second here.

Long golden hair, bright seafoam-green sundress, sparkling blue eyes, clearly from a rich family…

 _What the hell could she possibly want?_

"Ahem… Excuse me, mister…" She stared at the palm of her hand, covered in various scribbles and notes. "Wainwright... Is it?" Oh this oughta be good.

"Yeah, the one and only, what do you want?" I sighed.

"I need you to do a bit of… _research_ for me."

My eyes rolled over instinctively. Why did everyone feel the need to act so coy? Like there was some secret guilt that laid beneath the front of professionalism and haughtiness.

"I'm a private investigator. You either want me to spy on someone or stare at boring financial records for hours on end because you think there's something 'fishy' going on in town. So which is it?"

The girl sputtered. "We-well... yes b-but.."

"Yeah, yeah, you and every other 'concerned citizen' in this hellhole."

She narrowed her eyes at my crass statement. "No need to be snappy, I'm the one bringing you business after all."

Check and mate.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, exasperated by this clearly pointless argument. "Fine, I'm sorry. I've just had a rough day alright?"

Her eyes lit up brilliantly once again, revealing the youthful glow behind it. "It's no problem… after all, we all have something biting our rears…"

Truer words have never been spoken.

"Alright, so what brings you here? And don't say ' _research'_ because that'll most likely deter me from showing any signs of interest in your case."

She scoffed in annoyance. Reaching into the small star shaped purse slung over her shoulder, she pulled out a small newspaper clipping and handed it to me.

"Ever seen this boy before?"

I examined the article, cut out in a specific shape and manner, clearly to prevent the viewer from gaining any biased information from the actual news lines.

Whatever. The boy in question was indeed familiar, a thin yet somewhat athletic build, what appeared to be a Latino heritage, a little mole on the right side of his face. Couldn't possibly be much older than a teenager…

"No... Doesn't quite ring a bell. Why?"

"His name," she paused (a bit too dramatically, might I add), "is Marco Diaz."

Marco… Diaz… "Son of Raphael and Angie Diaz…"

"Yes. So you've heard of him."

"Heard of him? Who hasn't! It was all over the news 'bout a couple years ago. ' _Delinquent boy murders his parents in malicious intent'._ Question is… why are you so interested in him?"

I could see that was perhaps a bit too painful of a question for her to answer. Her lip trembled, her eyes darted to the floor, she looked as though she were to cry any second.

But why? Was he a good friend of hers? How could _this girl_ possibly benefit from knowing a... criminal…

Unless…

"You don't think he did it."

Her ears perked up instantly. "YES! Uh… I mean… O-of course… Which is why I wanted to recruit your investigative services to dig up what actually happened."

Okay, so she obviously has an _*ahem-*_ 'thing' for this 'Marco' boy but… it's relatively trivial compared to what could've happened years ago. So why now?

I frowned, looking at the sheet of newspaper again. The boy seemed lost in the photo, confused, yet still glowing with brilliancy, as if he had a bit of a reckless streak, perhaps even a couple family issues, but kind hearted nonetheless.

Certainly not the face of a killer.

Every fiber inside my being screamed to take the case, to satisfy my curiosity and, not to mention, it appeared to be rather of dire matter to, whoever this girl was…

Then my gaze met hers. She looked tormented on the inside past those clear blue eyes. Further inspection revealed dark lines beneath said eyes, hastily covered with a bit of makeup, a rather straight-lined expression, implying a lack of smiling in her days, all oddly counteracted by her interesting choice of dress and demeanor. Her attire practically exploded with vivaciousness and flamboyancy, but there was a sort of… hesitancy in her poise and action.

"Who are you?" The question was blunt and vague, but my heart demanded explanation. If, and I repeat, _if_ I were to be emotionally invested in his case, this girl had better be able to give me a damn good reason as to why.

"Wh-...Who am I?" She blinked twice, letting that question sink in for a moment before taking a somewhat defensive stance. "Who are YOU? What kind of stupid freaking question is that?"

I raised an eyebrow. Strike one.

"My business is _my business alone_ and you have absolutely no right to question it! You think I'd go around asking without the slightest amount of second thought who the heck _you_ are?!"

Strike two.

"You know what? You wanna know who I am? I'm a girl who's sat through piles upon piles of the same bullcrud everyone doles out on me on a daily. I'm a girl who's had everything taken away yet still forced to breathe and blink like everyone else in this godforsaken planet! But I'm also a girl who found a reason to start caring about life and what it's worth. And you know what else? I'm a girl who's had enough of you and your attitude and demands an answer. Are you going to help me or not?!"

Passion… She definitely knocked _that_ out of the park.

I smirked, my vision refocused on the photo. "He means that much to you huh?"

Her expression said it all. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"I mean, who is Marco Diaz exactly?"

"Are you asking me ridiculous questions again? Because I swear I'm about this close to-"

"Hey, this is part of the investigative procedure. Who _is_ Marco Diaz?"

"Investigative… So that means you'll do it?!" Her eyes began to shine with hope.

"Depends. As with any good 'investigation', I need as many facts as possible, and first and foremost, I need to know why Marco Diaz is innocent. So tell me. _Convince me._ "

"I-I can't explain.. I mean… I just know.. he.."

"Mhm… That's what I thought. You don't know the first thing about him."

"That's not true! You can't just-"

"Then don't tell me why he's innocent, tell me _who he is._ "

In truth, I didn't really need a reason. Just a simple analysis of the situation gave me all the clues I required for a verdict. Marco Diaz, about 18 years old by now, a wanted criminal left wandering the streets after being chased away by countless law enforcement officers and such. _This girl_ , clearly suppressed by a lifetime of responsibilities and expectations within a high-demanding upper class family must have met Marco somehow and, within the short interaction, became well acquainted. She fell in love with a charismatic and relatable character that showed her the slightest bit of empathy and now she's set out to prove his innocence. However there couldn't possibly be any mention, prior to, regarding criminality which meant there must have been some convincing factor that completely disregarded the concept of Marco being a murderer.

If she could show the same passion in describing Marco's character as she did herself, well, that's more than what I need.

She drew a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Marco… is… He's a stubborn, sarcastic, intrusive and arrogant turd. But at the same time, he's an understanding, protective, and selfless… well, turd. I-I know this might not change your opinion of him, but please, you're the only person I can turn to! This isn't about me, it's about justice! Marco Diaz deserves justice in a cruel and unforgiving world that never stopped and listened to him. He's a broken, misunderstood, and lonely soul who was left abandoned on the trail of life, an idea that even you should be able to comprehend! Please, Mr. Wainwright-"

I held up a hand. "Stop."

Her eyes pooled with tears, her head hung low. "O-okay… I understand… Thanks anyways mister-"

I outstretched my arm towards her, surprising her. "Please, call me Patrick. And I'll be damn honored to take your case."

And right as soon as those words came out, I see a flash of gold and before I know it, I'm being strangled in the most bone-crushing hug I have ever experienced.

"OH THANK YOU THANK YOU!"

I honestly couldn't tell whether or not she was too excited or too loud to notice my cries of panic, but either way, my muffled and gagged _"Let go"_ went completely ignored. And damn I swear I was barely seconds away from flying face-first through those Pearly Gates before she finally released me, a rush of air expanding my lungs to normal capacity.

"Oka-okay." I sputtered and coughed. "First, _never hug me like that again_. Second of all, before you thank me, you had better know what you're getting yourself into."

She nodded quickly. "Of course, I mean what else is there to this whole business?"

"No, I mean I'm not the law. I'm a private investigator." Given her confused expression, she clearly thought the two were the same. Rookie mistake. "I'm sorry but the best I can do for you is gather a bit of information. What you do with that, I can't help."

She raised an eyebrow. "Then how are you better than a cop?"

Oh, she did not just…

"BECAUSE COPS DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT ANYTHING OTHER THAN STUFFING THEIR GODDAMN FACES WITH DONUTS IN THIS SHITSHOW OF A TOWN!"

Aaaand I regretted shouting instantly.

But, to my defense, I had every right to. It's true, I hate police officers in this town. Bunch of low-life, no-talent, gun-slinging hicks who mow down anyone who gives them a second look. Corrupt and merciless, the 'law' in this place was broken. Broken beyond repair like a china vase that you accidentally knocked over at your grandma's place. Good for business, bad when you get a parking ticket.

Sensing the terror that hung in the air, I softened my expression. "I-I'm sorry, again. If you couldn't tell, I got a… a 'thing' against cops."

She remained silent. Her eyes scanned me once, twice over. Like I was some freak show side-attraction at the old carnivals you used to pay a nickel to prod with a stick.

I quickly tried to change the subject. "So, anyways, if you still want to go through with this, I can get you the information. That, I can guarantee as much, but what happens afterwards, I can't be held accountable for."

In all honesty, I was expecting her to just drop the subject, spin on her heel and slam the door on her way out.

But she didn't. She stood there. Like she was contemplating something behind those seemingly ditzy eyes.

"All right Patrick. I trust you."

Damn shocker right there.

"But, one condition." Ah the sticker. _The 'fine print'_.

"You're gonna tell me who _you_ are."

"Wait, what?" The words slipped before I could even formulate the thought.

"You heard me. Tomorrow, coffee at the B&B on Wenton, you're telling me _everything._ "

Hmmm, this tale took quite the… _interesting_ turn… perhaps there was more to the whole 'dumb blonde' act than I thought…

"Alright then, you got yourself a deal there Miss…" I offered a handshake when a strange thought occurred to me.

I still never got her name…

She grasped my hand firmly before stating:

"Butterfly, Star Butterfly." And as quickly as she had fluttered into my little slice of hell, she was gone, leaving me completely dumbfounded.

 _Butterfly…_

Oh shit.

This tale just took quite the interesting turn indeed.

* * *

 **So? What'd you guys think? I know this story looks as if it will be centred more so on my OC but I hope that doesn't throw you, my audience, off here.**

 **My intentions are to continue this story, as I do have a rough draft of chapter "4" sitting in my phone, however before I release it, I'd like to hear feedback from all of you guys whether or not this story has any potential or not.**

 **Also, for those of you concerned with my future update regarding** _ **Ripples**_ **(shameless promotion again…), I am glad to say that I am currently writing my next chapter for that, and if all goes well, I will most likely be alternating stories for which I update per week, every Friday!**

 **And as always, reviews and comments are deeply appreciated, I apologize for all the swearing, Patrick is a rather… vulgar character as you will learn to find out why possibly in my next chapter of** _ **Silhouettes**_ **!**


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